


Drunken Confessions

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Balinor - Freeform, Crack, Drinking, Drunk Merlin (Merlin), Drunken Confessions, Fluff, Gen, Good Morgana (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Lancelot (Merlin) Lives, Magic Revealed, Mentions of Freya, Morgana Knows about Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Protective Knights (Merlin), Will - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23785645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Merlin's drinking to remember the dead, but maybe it wasn't a good idea to get completely sloshed.
Relationships: Merlin & Freya
Comments: 36
Kudos: 576





	Drunken Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I was bored. Have another Magic Reveal

Merlin was drunk. Not even a little bit drunk. Completely and utterly sloshed. He stumbled back in the direction of the Castle, a mug in hand, wondering why he didn’t use drinking to solve all his issues. Honestly, it was incredible! Suddenly, the deaths he had been commemorating weren’t painful. He could think of Will and laugh, picture Freya and just feel a strong adoration. He could even think of his heritage, of Balinor, and raise a toast to him.

Just his luck, that the Knights and the King had chosen this night for a campfire and a round of pastries from the kitchen. Morgana and Gwen had been out “girl-shopping” in the market, hence why the boys had felt a need to come together for the evening. Amusingly, they had invited Merlin along, but he had an appointment with the Tavern and the rest of his savings.

Now, he spotted the fire and tried to avoid it, but he was struggling to walk straight and he was wobbling like a new-born colt.

‘Merlin!’ Gwaine cheered, and he swore internally (or possibly aloud) and tried to walk across. They looked amused, as he stumbled in their direction and watched Arthur frown.

‘Are you drunk?’ Merlin blinked, pointed to himself in confusion, then looked behind him. For some reason, that earned a chorus of laughter, and Merlin realised that Arthur had been asking him.

‘No. M’sober.’ That earned chuckles, Gwaine reaching to guide him down to the fire. He followed, sat down cross-legged and looked around the circle.

‘Any occasion?’ Percival asked him, and Merlin raised the mug and then chased the drink that spilled from it.

‘Celeb’ting the dead.’ He tried to maintain a straight face, but then burst into giggles and drained the cup. He noted how his friends had strangely gone quiet, were looking at him in confusion. Well, some of them were, Lancelot was looking guilty and draining the drink he had in his hand sharply.

‘Whoever they are, they must be a special person. For you to be this drunk.’ Leon amended, Merlin snorting and patting the curly-haired Knight before freezing.

‘Your hair’s so soft!’ He did it again, giggled when Leon smiled at him, then turned back to the fire.

‘They are special. All of them.’ Another toast, to whoever was in the air with him, and he finished it. Then he took Gwaine’s, and the Knight didn’t fight him on it.

‘So Merlin’s a happy drunk.’ Lancelot stated, like he was trying to change the conversation.

‘I’m always happy.’ Merlin slurred, crawling across to lean on Lancelot and beam up at him. The Knight smiled fondly, and Merlin patted his knee.

‘Glad you’re back Lance, s’nice to have you.’ His friend smiled, ruffled his hair and gave him the warmest expression.

‘Is Lancelot your favourite?’ Gwaine was offended, and Merlin clapped his hands excitedly.

‘Course not, don’t have favourites.’ He was offered another drink, this time by Leon, and he was pleased that they were helping his celebration.

‘Not even Morgana?’ Arthur prodded, and Merlin sniggered.

‘No, just like seein’ her happy.’ Lancelot’s grip on his shoulder was tightening. Arthur was staring at him, something in his eyes that indicated he didn’t believe him.

‘Cause of her Magic.’ He was beginning to think that maybe he’d drunk too much.

‘You think she’s only special because of her Magic?’ Arthur was angry! But why, all Merlin had ever done was look after his idiotic arse.

‘No, s’cause I understand.’ He slurred, drained Leon’s drink and tried to keep happy, despite Arthur’s tone.

‘You understand?’ Arthur joked, the same look that Merlin always received. The look that implied Merlin was useless.

‘Merlin, don’t…’ Lancelot halted, because the fire had twisted into a sparkling image of Camelot, twisting and moving as the smoke rose. The Knight behind him was moving, reaching for his sword, while Arthur’s mouth had dropped open.

‘Sire…’ Lancelot warned, and Arthur looked between them.

‘You have Magic.’ Merlin giggled, twisted the image to one of Arthur on his coronation day, with the crown of Camelot on his head. When he looked up to Lancelot, the Knight looked proud, but he was scared.

‘Since a baby.’ The Warlock agreed, and the King just stared.

‘You knew.’ He accused, Lancelot shifting.

‘He enchanted the blade to kill the Griffin. Merlin’s always protected you, Sire.’ Merlin looked between them, intrigued at the conversation, before Gwaine was reaching for him and he happily shifted back to the Knight, letting a hand run through his hair. Comfort, did he like the Magic?

‘You can release your sword, Lancelot. I’m not going to kill the idiot.’

‘Can you show me more?’ Leon asked, staring to the fire, then to Merlin. The Warlock looked back to the fire, and this time it shifted to an image of a woman, holding a cup. Nimueh.

‘Nimueh?’ Arthur questioned, before he asked Merlin what had happened to her.

‘I killed her.’ He admitted, then refilled his own Mug using his gift. Gwaine choked, and so Merlin did the same to his mug.

‘You killed a highly powerful sorceress?’ Why did Arthur never believe him? He slumped, looked to the others in the group. Lancelot was moving closer to him, right next to Gwaine, a supportive friend.

‘Sure. She w’threatening you.’ Merlin paused, looking up to Gwaine and clenching his fist, before releasing it. A blue butterfly flicked up, darted through the sky, and the Knight chased it, caught it on his finger.

‘And you’re drinking to celebrate the dead?’ Elyan asked quietly, while Lancelot looked around the group.

‘He’s drunk, this isn’t right.’

‘And he’s been lying to us, so we question him.’ Arthur shot back, and Merlin offered him out a butterfly. The King blinked, but reached out to accept the offering.

‘Yeah. Will n’ Freya and Balinor.’

‘I remember Will. Your childhood friend.’ He sounded guilty, so Merlin quickly made him a second butterfly. Arthur’s smile returned.

‘Freya?’ Percival asked, and Merlin left Lancelot and Gwaine to move across to Percival. He topped up his drink, rested against his knee and then altered the fire.

‘Was g’unna run away w’her.’ The fire crafted her, she looked beautiful as always, and Merlin beamed.

‘What happened?’ Elyan asked, a sympathetic smile on his face.

‘Was cursed, n’Arthur killed her.’

He wondered why everyone had gone quiet, tried to make some more butterflies to cheer them up. He wasn’t sure why some of them were crying, it didn’t make a lot of sense, this was supposed to be happy.

‘Balinor?’ Arthur asked, and Merlin shrugged.

‘Was m’father.’

‘Shit, Merlin…’ The King rarely swore, and it made him stare at his friend, wide eyes.

‘S’okay! Keepin’ you safe, all good.’ He stood up, or tried to, narrowly avoided falling into Elyan’s lap.

‘Where are you going?’ Arthur looked worried, but Merlin was already tumbling across the grass, giggling as he clapped his hands.

Thunder. Oops. He did it again, and lightning rattled through the sky. It was funny, and the group were watching him in amusement, before he turned his attention to the grass.

Flowers, yes, lots of flowers that spread out under his touch.

‘MERLIN!’ Morgana, rushing across with her skirts in hand, looking to the sky and then to the mess he’d made with all the flowers. She looked to the Knights, and Merlin bounded across to her.

‘Witch! Hello, hello my friend, magicky magic.’ He kissed her cheek, then offered out some flowers, and she burst into laughter.

‘Hello, Warlock. Should you have exposed your secret in this way?’

‘Secret? Shhh, not s’pose to tell anyone.’ Morgana was glaring at her brother, before her smile came back and her eyes glowed golden. Unlike his butterflies, Morgana’s Magic chose to represent itself in lots of tiny flames, dancing through the air around them.

‘I’ll keep your secret, Merlin. All of us will.’ Good, he was happy with that.

Now, some more alcohol.


End file.
